Soft Summer Whites

Hi Folks,

Just popping in for a quick minute today to share my soft summer whites with you.   I'm feeling a bit behind on my Beyond Layers class this week...short week and busy days and my homework suffers...so today I said "o.k. Cheryl...start with day one and just post something,  day one of quotes being the topic.  The first word was Life.

Although I did not use the word in my photo or quote I'm hoping you get a sense of my life and what I love from the photo.   It's our house in Maine and that really is where life happens...so many good times and such a sense of place for me.   I go there with no expectations other than to live life to the fullest or do nothing at all and invite everyone who comes to do the same.

In the spring I lighten the load all over the house.  White works for me there.   It is clean and pure and blank. I can add color is  I choose but usually not a lot.   I find the white restful and relaxing but it also stirs my creativity.  There was a time when I would not have chosen white for myself what with kids, dogs and people going in and out.   Life changes as we age and all those "myths" of things being suitable fly out the window.   I don't have time for suitable anymore...but I do have time now for white.  So summer white.   When I crawl in that bed at the end of the day I feel like I'm in heaven floating on a cloud.  Soft gentle breezes from the french doors,  yes,  I put french doors in my bedroom and they actually go out to a balcony with only a small table and two chairs...just enough room for hubby and me to enjoy coffee, tea, perhaps a cocktail  and a good book either in the morning or at days end.   All of this happens to the sounds of the lake lapping against the rocks.  

At night it is different.   Muted light from my bedside table..soft white surrounding me along with books, magazines and my white fluffy Gracie.   Those french doors are still open but now I hear the cry of Loons on the lake and when that happens I stop and listen.   One of my most favorite sounds in the world.  Summer in Maine,   I make time for it.   I clean it up good,  I invite the world in and mostly I sit and enjoy.   It won't be long before it's time to put the electric blanket back on the bed and those french doors are closed against the howling wind and blowing snow.

Maine..the Way Life Should Be...it says so on the license plate.

The Kiss

 There are some that say that today we give away kisses so freely.   I suppose in some ways "they" are right. Years ago hugs and kisses were reserved for family and very special friends.   They had a deeper meaning than the sometimes superfical ones that we share today.  In San Diego recently I came across the statue of "The Kiss".  I had not been aware of this real life event before and I must admit that it touched me deeply and on many levels.   It got me to thinking about my parents and the times in which they fell in love.   In a time when men where hero's,  fighting in wars and coming home with a warm welcome of thanks and pride.   Today seemed like the perfect day to post this amazing statue that tells of the ending of World War 11.

“Unconditional Surrender,” a 25-foot, 6,000 pound statue by world-renowned artist J. Seward Johnson commemorating a famous World War II photo was unveiled Feb. 10 at Mole Park in San Diego. Unconditional Surrender is a three-dimensional interpretation of a photo taken by Alfred Eisenstaedt of a Sailor kissing a nurse in Times Square, New York City on Aug. 14, 1945, following the announcement of V-J Day.Edith Shain, the nurse memorialized in Eisenstaedt’s photo, and members of the Pearl Harbor Survivors Association Inc., attended the ceremony along with hundreds of San Diego residents.“This statue brings back so many memories of peace, love and happiness,” said Shain. “There is so much romance in the statue; it gives such a feeling of hope to all who look at it.”“During the moment of the kiss I don’t remember much, it happened so fast and it happened at the perfect time. I didn’t even look at the Sailor who was kissing me,” Shain continued. “I closed my eyes and enjoyed the moment like any woman would have done.” Sailors attending the ceremony had the opportunity to meet the woman pictured in the photograph famous throughout the Navy community, and the world.“This sculpture represents hope and freedom,” said Quartermaster Seaman Hannah R. Salyer, PCU Green Bay (LPD-20).

Today also seems like the perfect day to share the story of my Mom and Dad and how those days must have been for them.   My mom was never a big talker so when I saw this "Kiss" I started thinking of their early days together.   After much thought I came to the conclusion that my Mom and Dad must have felt exactly like this couple at this very time.

 When I got home from San Diego I remembered a small photo that I had of my parents marriage.   It kept nagging at me as I tried to put together the dates of that statue.   Finally I was able to find the photo.  It was taken in Seattle Washington in March of 1945...My Dad had marked the back of the photo.   It was a photo of my Dad in his Navy uniform, with my Mom standing next to him,  outside of St. Benedict's church.   They had just gotten married.   You see, my Mom, went by herself, to meet my Dad who was stationed in Seattle Washington.   She was 18 years old,  not a traveler, and I'm sure she had a limited income.   This was 5 months before World War 11 ended.   How in love they must have been for her to make such a long journey, at such a young age, alone and in a time of war.  The reason for the journey, most likely by train, all the way across the country,  was because they eloped.  It's an amazing journey in so many ways.   I wish that they could have shared that time with us.  In the yesteryears of my life we did not get to hear of that trip.  Love was private and so were the stories.  

As I look back, knowing more about how it might have been,  I am amazed at my Mom's courage to make that trip.  I know it could not have been easy for her.   My Grandmother ruled with an iron hand and I'm sure she must not have been happy about my Mom's going.   A young woman alone,  on a train full of who know's what kind of people,  well shame on you is what I hear.   My Mom was beautiful her entire life and I'm sure that was also another concern while traveling in war time.   Those trains could be full of service men just waiting for a young pretty lady.   Then money,  where would she get the money,  not from my Grandmother or Grandfather for sure.  They would have held back thinking she couldn't come up with the funds so then she wouldn't be able to go.  Way back then my Mom knew what she wanted and she went and got it.   I wish we had shared her journey.   In the end though the journey speaks for itself doesn't it.   Love conquers all.

Memorial Day is a day to honor all the men and women who have died for our freedom,  for our country.   I have always been proud of my Dad for serving his entire life.   He went in as a young man,  probably 17 years old. Tried other jobs along the way but always before his time-lapsed he would re-up and go off again. My Mom's one brave trip to marry him was all she took. We were a military family but not a traveling family. That can create problems in a marriage and ultimately my parents divorced.    I am sure though that in 1945 when a young girl traveled across American to seek her love, her Navy man,  that the kiss they shared upon arrival was as passionate and loving as the one in the statue.  My brother was born 10 months later in December 1945.   War would not keep them apart.   In the end, life did.   In my heart though, I know that with all the pain and suffering that went on at home during my growing up years,  my parents loved each other their entire life.   I think we all have one great love and no matter where life takes us the memory of that Kiss stays with us forever.

To all who fought the good fight of Love and War...Happy Memorial Day. 

Tree Secrets

Two boys,  sitting in a tree,  smiles on their faces and feeling like the only two people in a crowded park. A sunny day,  full of hope and promise.   A celebration is happening on the ground but up in that tree memories are being made.

I know that's true because when I saw that tree it brought back so many memories for me of days gone by.   We had the most wonderful trees when we were growing up,  perfect for daydreaming, story telling, plans that we hoped would turn into adventures and reading.   The hours would float away like white puffy clouds,  just moving along at a lazy speed while we were up in that tree.   Secrets,  they were also being shared, a bit at a time.

Some days the tree was to be shared with a friend.   Never a problem.   Whoever got there first was always happy to have the company of a friend.   That's when the adventures would form in our minds, with the hopes of maybe,  just maybe carrying them out.   Secrets were big with friends also.  After sharing a secret or telling of a difficult time at home we always climbed down feeling better,  knowing that we were not alone and tha the tree would keep our thoughts safe and private.   My favorite times though were when I was alone.  

There is nothing more magical and wonderful than to take your book and climb up that tree and find the perfect limb for leaning back on and reading away a summer afternoon.  If your lucky no one will know where you are and come looking for you.   It is a process though,  the branch has to be low enough so that you don't need help getting to it and it has to have a wide enough limb for a comfortable sit.   You need to be able to tilt your head back so that every once in awhile you can look away from your book and look up...look up at the leaves and the sky and sun and feel the warm that they  offer.   The important part is to get a good limb on a tree with lots of leaves,  you can sometimes even look down at the people passing by and they don't know your even there.   It's like a secret for just you and it makes you feel powerful,  like you put one over on them.

I grew up in the city, on a major road going from one town to the next.   The problem was we had more cement sidewalks than trees.  I loved the city streets.  They brought there own kind of entertainment but that's for another day.   In the 60's though we were more fortunate than today's city kids.   We had hugh parks all over and we had the Salem Willows,  all of which had very lovely maple, chestnut,  weeping willows and oak trees.   Some of us (not me) even had a good tree in our yard.   Also,  there were trees planted right in there with that cement.  You needed to get one of those on a side street though and that's where you could do some good people watching.   Back then I could hop up in a tree without any worry about breaking a limb (mine) or falling out of my tree.   I miss those days.

When I saw those boys in the tree I was once again reminded of the charm of childhood.   I could tell from the smiles on their faces that they to loved the adventure and excitement of being up there on their own.  They felt a contectedness to each other and to that tree and I hope that someday those trees will still be there for a another group of children to build dreams in.  

I'm going to keep my eyes open  for a good tree for Liam.   We now live in a rural area and we are surrounded by trees.   Perhaps I'll look for one with a really good limb and tell Liam of my tree adventures so he'll think about having a few of his own.   In the meantime,  I'll keep my tree dreams alive knowing that my love of nature might just have started somewhere in one of those big city willow trees, reading a book and keeping secrets,  knowing that all was safe,  wrapped up in those branches.